how the story begins

on the second floor
is where our story
begins.
on the third
floor is where it
ends. there is a
stairway in the middle
which is quicker
to climb
or descend
instead of waiting
for the slow
elevator. you are
wearing a pink
chiffon dress
with berets in your
hair. i am in my bathrobe
holding a newspaper,
a toothbrush in
my mouth.
there are windows
and doors
where people come
and go and peer out.
a small dog plays
a small part
as well. take note
of his barking at
certain hours of the day.
there are others
involved too,
a jealous ex wife,
a  mailman,
a woman who lives
on the first floor
who can't 'mind
her business. there
are innocent bystanders
as well. the mormon
boys at the door.
the insurance salesman
with a hole in his shoes.
i'd be remiss in not
mentioning the gun found
on the mantle,
and the black and
white photographs
taken at awkward angles.
lies are told.
truths are revealed.
there is more
than one ending.
one happy, one sad,
and one unresolved,
that leads you to believe
that there will
be another story soon.